


Of Hamburger Balls

by blackhorseandthecherrytree



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackhorseandthecherrytree/pseuds/blackhorseandthecherrytree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hamburger date fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Hamburger Balls

Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time, or any associated characters.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin stared at his plate. Belle stared at hers. They looked at each other, and then turned to Granny.

 “I don’t believe these are hamburgers,” Rumplestiltskin said quietly, but still with a hint of menace and steel.

Granny pushed her glasses up her nose and glared at him. “No, they aren’t,” she replied testily. “As a matter of fact, we ran out. The factory we get our hamburger patties from recalled all orders, something about a decontamination process. So unless you want to go out and kill a cow yourself, this is what you get.” She gestured at the plates of spaghetti and meatballs. “You can thank me later.” She strode away, confident in her victory.

“Killing the cow’s always an option, dearie.”

Belle smiled at Rumplestiltskin. “But we might need it later for milk. Besides, I’m not sure we should question Granny’s generosity.” She picked up her fork, and poked at a meatball. “Now, how do we eat this particular delicacy?”

Rumplestiltskin began talking about the proper way to eat spaghetti. Belle tuned him out, a little. It wasn’t as if she’d never had spaghetti, or eaten with a fork. But Rumplestiltskin liked to explain this new world to her, and she liked to listen. It was a safe topic of conversation, exploration and discovery. And he always added a twist.

For example, now he was telling her about a girl who made angelhair pasta so strong and light and long, it curled out of her window down to the road below. The local king had more gut than wisdom, so when he came across it in the road he began eating all the way up to her kitchen, where he promptly asked her to marry him and cook for his table. She accepted, and the court made up a story about how she was a princess who’d been trapped in a tower and was valiantly rescued by their king in order to hide the shame of her lower class birth.

“Did anyone ever find out?”

He grinned toothily. “I did, obviously. And it was clear to any royal who visited that she was no more a princess than she was a pig.” He drank some of his ice tea. Apparently in this world, Dark Ones got thirsty from speaking too long. “But once they tasted her food, no one questioned her credentials.”

Belle spun the spaghetti noodles around on her fork into a smooth clump and bit, chewing. “You know,” she said between mouthfuls, “you really should write down all your stories someplace. I’m sure it’d make a wonderful book.”

“Should I call myself the last surviving Grimm’s Brother, who knows how all the stories really turned out?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a bad hook.” Belle paused thoughtfully. Several of the newer children’s books in the library had a tongue-in-cheek approach to fairytales. She especially liked the one about the big bad wolf who just wanted a cup of sugar. “There might be quite a market, especially from someone who actually knew the people involved.”

Rumplestiltskin smiled gently at her, the lines in his face all smoothed out. “I’ll consider it as a fallback career, dearie, should my current business not work out.”

The rest of the date went much the same way – uneventful, full of pleasant talking, and at the end Belle felt as if she’d drawn back another layer of Rumplestiltskin the man and sunk her way that much further in. But as they headed for the door, they were in agreement on one thing.

“This was nice,” Belle said, putting on the coat Rum held out for her.

“Yes,” Rumplestiltskin said. “But it wasn’t quite the same, was it?”

She turned around and smiled up at him. “Try again tomorrow?”

His hand found hers. “Always, Belle.”


End file.
